


Half-Baked

by voleuse



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-03
Updated: 2004-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not really a metaphor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-Baked

**Author's Note:**

> Set after "Tabula Rasa."

"I need your help!" Buffy's voice sounded panicked, but tinny by cell phone. "It's an emergency."

"I'll be right there," Tara promised before hanging up. She gathered an assortment of spellbooks, in case magic was needed. As an afterthought, she grabbed a stake and a bottle of holy water.

It's always good to be prepared.

*

What Tara found at the Summers home, however, was more chaotic than she had anticipated. The kitchen looked like it had been turned over twice, the smoke alarm was beeping furiously, and Buffy looked like she was about to cry.

"Buffy?" Tara stepped into the room, wincing as something crunched beneath her shoes. "Are you baking?"

"Yes." Buffy looked up from the floor, where she sat cross-legged, a cookbook in her lap. "And it's as bad as it looks."

Tara walked briskly to the sink and opened the window above it. "Maybe worse." She used a towel to wave most of the smoke outside, then she reset the smoke alarm.

Buffy stood up, jaw slack. "How did you do that?"

Tara grinned, used the towel to sweep excess flour into the sink. "Magic."

*

"Dawn's class is having a bake sale to raise money for a field trip," Buffy explained as she swept sugar and cinnamon off the floor. "She asked me to make snicker doodles for her, and since I flaked on her _last_ bake sale, I had to say yes."

Tara scraped the last of the charcoal-formerly-known-as-cookie-dough from the pan. "Of course."

"It would have been perfectly fine," Buffy said, "but then Giles called from England to see how we're doing, and _General Hospital_ was on, and--"

"You got distracted."

"Right," Buffy continued, "and before I knew it, bam! Fire alarm."

"And the rest of the mess happened, how?" Tara dried off the now-clean pans and set them on the stove.

Buffy blushed. "Oops?"

"Right."

On the counter, Buffy lined up the shortening, baking soda, vanilla extract, and a dozen eggs. "Will you help me?" She fluttered her eyelashes at Tara, provoking a fit of giggles.

"I don't know." Tara looked at the clock.

"Wi--Um, everybody else is going to be gone until tonight," Buffy explained. "It's just me and my bestest cooking buddy in the world."

"Cooking buddy?"

"Because," Buffy hefted a bag of flour onto the counter, "we cook together. Right?" She fluttered her eyelashes again.

Tara sighed. "Right."

*

"What exactly _is_ cream of tartar?" Buffy peered inside the bottle with a frown. "Aren't tartars, like, people?"

Tara checked the oven temperature, then used the electric mixer to whip together the sugar and eggs. "Yes, Buffy. Cream of tartar is people."

"Aha!" Buffy hopped onto the counter. "I knew this baking deal was suspicious. Now tell me about baking soda."

Tara rolled her eyes, making sure Buffy saw her do it.

"Hey!" Buffy dipped her hand into the flour, then tossed some in Tara's general direction. "I'm not the one going all Martha-Stewarty in the kitchen."

"They're cookies, Buffy." Tara shut off the mixer, then checked the oven again. Almost hot. "It's more like I'm Betty-Crockering. Martha Stewart is fancier."

"Like," and Buffy adopted a snootier tone, "cinnamon cookies garnished lightly with sugar, decorated with sprigs of holly?"

"Something like that." Tara poured a little sugar and cinnamon into a bowl, then squinted at it, estimating. "Here." She handed Buffy the bowl. "Mix this."

Buffy poked the contents of the bowl, then licked the sugar off her finger. "I need a spoon."

"Here." Tara handed her a spoon. "But, ew, wash your hands first."

"Okay, _Martha_," Buffy said as she slid off the counter, faux-pouting as she washed her hands. "What am I stirring this stuff for, anyway?"

Tara used the mixer to combine the rest of the dough's ingredients. "It's to roll the dough in, so it's got cinnamon and sugar on the outside." She finished mixing, and started rolling the dough into balls. "Actually, could you grease the pans first?"

"Sure." Buffy dried her hands, then grabbed the can of shortening and dipped a paper towel into it, then rubbed the collected grease on the pans.

Tara eyed the paper towel with distaste. "Ew again."

"Hey!" Buffy waggled the greasy paper at Tara's face, and giggled when Tara veered back. "My mother taught me how to do that."

"Too bad you didn't learn the rest of her baking tips," Tara mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that!"

Buffy stuck her tongue out at her, and Tara smirked. She then presented Buffy with a bowl full of balls of dough. "Is the sugar ready?"

They're silent for a few minutes, rolling the dough in the cinnamon and sugar, then carefully placing them on the baking sheets.

When they finished, Tara grabbed a fork from the cutlery drawer, and handed another to Buffy. "Now, we flatten them."

Buffy grinned, a little maniacally, at the tines of her fork. "That, I can do." She poised her fork over an innocent-looking ball of dough. "Die, demon cookie!"

Tara caught Buffy's wrist, rescuing the cookie-in-progress. "_Not_ demon cookie." She patted the dough gently with her own fork, staring at Buffy meaningfully as she squished. "_Nice_ cookie."

Buffy pouted, for real this time. "You're no fun."

"You want to get these cookies baked, don't you?" Tara continued to diligently squish the balls of dough, leaving fork-like imprints in them. "That means no killing the nice cookies."

"No fun," Buffy repeated, but she followed Tara's example, gently squashing the dough until it looked cookie-shaped.

*

_8-10 Minutes Later_

"Can I have one yet?"

"No."

"But they're done!"

"They still need to cool."

"Okay."

Pause.

"Can I have one yet?"

"No."

*

Dawn arrived home from school to find Buffy and Tara sprawled in the living room, bowls of ice cream in hand, and the latest in Julia Roberts playing on TV.

In front of them was a large platter, empty save for a few suspicious looking crumbs.

"Hey, Dawn!"

"Hi, Dawnie."

Dawn stared at them for a minute, then down at the empty platter. "Were those my cookies?"

Buffy and Tara looked at each other for a second, guilty expressions on their faces.

"No," Tara said slowly. "Those weren't your cookies. They were--"

"A test run!" Buffy jumped in. "Practice cookies."

"Right!" Tara stood up, nodding frantically. "We're making more."

"Right now, in fact," Buffy said, skipping to the kitchen.

Dawn looked dubiously after her sister, then back at Tara. "Practice cookies?"

Tara smiled. "Something like that."

*

Dawn brought chocolate chip cookies to her bake sale. Specifically, chocolate chip cookies made by a local bakery that Tara found.

Buffy, Dawn, and Tara had snicker doodles for dessert for a week.


End file.
